


Now That's a Thought

by Lamaria_12



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Comedy, Does it come off that way?, Drabble, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, First Meetings, Flatmate Sherlock Holmes, Gen, How Do I Tag, How it all came together, Light-Hearted, M/M, Matchmaker Mike Stamford, POV Mike, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Friendship, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Snippet, hopefully
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:53:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23564839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamaria_12/pseuds/Lamaria_12
Summary: Mike Stamford finds himself constantly thinking: "I've seen odder things" In the face of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.They both find an odd happiness in the macabre, and when he sees them both so low, both looking for a flatmate well...What other option is there?
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Kudos: 58





	Now That's a Thought

When Mike Stamford was at Barts, he once walked into an empty lab with John sitting at a table with a beaker in front of him. He was stock still, staring at the beaker as if any sudden movements would make it explode or something. He was tense, but there was a clear boyish smile plastered on his face.

“What’s that?” Mike had asked, confused.

John had stared at him with manic glee, “Nitroglycerin.”

This was one of many times where Mike had experienced the side of John no one knew about. To everyone else, John often came off as almost preppy. Sure he played Rugby, but he was a good student. He wasn’t the top of his class but he was certainly up there. So when had walked into that lab and found John staring at a substance that actually could explode he thought the man was insane. He never did anything with it, he just… looked at it. When Mike had approached him about it, he seemed sheepish. He said he didn’t do a lot, and that he didn’t want it to actually explode or anything, he just liked the idea of something… he never finished his sentence and Mike didn’t push. Though he always finished it himself sometimes, exciting? Different? Dangerous? Rebellious?

When John signed up for the army, he’d heard it from a friend of a friend of a  _ friend’s _ older sister. He remembered thinking that he was glad he’d found an alternative to sitting in a lab of almost a pint of nitroglycerin.

After that, he’d pretty much forgotten about John Watson. They were never all that close, just classmates that worked on That One Group Project together. Their only real connection was Mike’s knowledge of John’s Little Secret. Even then he’d seen weirder things. It was still university after all.

Then he’d met Sherlock Holmes.

It was a pure accident, he was just fetching a binder he’d left in one of the labs after class and there he was. A 1.8 meter model from Vogue standing over a dead body covered in barnacles holding a scalpel in one hand and a limpet in the other.

“Experiment,” He’d said in a deep uncaring baritone.

“Okay.” He’d replied, grabbed his binder, and tried to tell himself he’d seen odder things.

Sherlock Holmes was… something. Definitely odd. Definitely alien. He was macabre and childish glee. Manic and cold hard logic. He didn’t make sense. Over time he’d gleaned that he was a ‘Consulting Detective’ and that he solved crimes. Okay. Things started to make more sense now. He had asked if the body he was working on was the victim of his latest case once.

“No, this is just an experiment. Personal curiosity.”

Okay then.

He didn’t usually see much of Sherlock Holmes, but he was reliable in that he came to Bart’s every Friday after his class had left.

“So,” Mike started, “Molly says you’re here a lot, do your friends share uh…” He gestured to the scene before him. Sherlock was dropping different types of acid on the 75 year old man’s fingers to see how they scarred. At least, he thought that was what he was doing.

“I don’t have friends.”

“Right, you live in central London though right? What about your flatmate?”

“I don’t have one of those either, but I am looking for one,” Sherlock Holmes glanced at him in that rare flash of shyness. It only showed when he was talking about something out of his depth, namely, building relationships with other people. Mike thought it was flattering that Sherlock thought him interesting enough to offer to be flatmates.

“I can’t, sorry, but I’ll keep an eye out yeah?” 

He did keep an eye out. In fact, it was while he was keeping an eye out that he saw John Watson.

It was a beautiful day, nice enough to have lunch in the park. He was just debating about whether to get coffee or not when he saw a man limping briskly down the path. He seemed determined, but somber. As if what he was doing was an asinine chore he was forced to do. It had taken Mike a solid minute of looking at the man to realize it was John Watson. 

“John? John Watson!” He had called out, rushing over to the man in his surprise. He seemed to be in his own mind, before snapping out of it and turning to him.

“Mike?”   
  


“Haha, yeah I know I got fat,”

“No..”

They both sat down, John mentioned that he had gotten shot and Mike chatted about his new job. John mentioned financial troubles and Mike told him to get a flatmate.

“Oh come on, who’d want me as a flatmate?” Mike disagreed, John was most unlike anyone Mike had ever-

Oh.

Oh now that was a thought.


End file.
